Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Author's Note: Basically, this fic operates under the same assumptions regarding Amy and her mother's spellbook and just how it is that Amy (in canon) picked up the use of magic as my oneshot 'The Spellbook'. Essentially, this fic is an AU of that one, though you don't need to have read that fic to understand this one, as the pertinent details are featured in her (though you should go and read it, of course ^^)

Continuity-wise, since I don't expect people to have episode airdates memorized, this fic takes place after I Robot, You Jane, but before the end of Season 1.

Thanks (and blame) extended for theecclecticbookworm on Tumblr – for helping me out when it comes to Jenny, and blame for planting this idea in the back of my head with all her enthusiasm about Jenny.

This will be a two-shot, though I'm not sure when part two will be coming out.

The Spellbook: Another Path

By Alkeni

May 7th, 1997
Computer Lab, Sunnydale High

As the bell rang to indicate the end of the period, Amy made a quick series of clicks to save her assignment onto the floppy disk. Once it was saved, she ejected the disk and grabbed her bag as she stood, walking over to the desk to drop it off, so Ms. Calendar could look at it and grade their work.

Amy had to admit that while computer science class wasn't in any way her favorite, their new teacher for it was pretty nice and helpful – a lot more approachable than the one they'd started the year out with, anyway. She wouldn't bite your head for being an idiot if you asked her a question, for one.

As she approached the desk, Amy's eyes passed over a weird crystal looking thing on it, not really registering it. And then, as if dragged back to it, her eyes passed over it again. It was totally unremarkable... just a sort of purplish-white decorative crystal thing, the kind of hokey little knickknack you got at a gift shop in a museum or something.

Except...

Except that Amy had seen one just like it before. In her mother's 'lab'. Amy had only been in there the one time, with Mr. Giles while she was still... not in her own body, but the whole room had been burned into her memory.

That crystal had been a much, much darker purple, and black where this one was white, but the size, shape and seeming structure of the crystal looked almost exactly the same...

Amy's throat tightened and she felt her whole body tense up. For a split second, she felt actually frozen in place until she realized it was fear, not magic, that was holding her. Barely suppressing a frightened gasp – she still gave out a sort of 'eep' sound – Amy dropped the floppy disc onto the desk and turned, hurrying away, ignoring the strange looks Ms. Calendar and the rest of her class were giving her.

She managed to make it out into the hallway and into the bathroom not two doors down before she had to stop, using the wall to stop herself from falling over, sucking in air sharply and rapidly, shallow breath after shallow breath. It didn't take her long to realize she was hyperventilating, but that was in no way surprising. Every time anything reminded her of her mother, she got like this.

Amy remembered the first time – she'd been unpacking the few things she'd brought with her when she'd moved in with her dad. And right there at the bottom of the box...

Her mother's spellbook. Amy barely remembered picking it up and stuffing it into the back of her closet, trying to ensure out of sight, out of mind, but she did remember recoiling from the box, hiding at the far end of her bedroom for... at least a few minutes, hyperventilating, terrified of it as if it would just... attack her, or somehow give rise to her mother, back and fully restored and... ready to try to kill her again.

She'd wanted... she'd wanted to burn it or throw it away or...

But she'd hadn't packed it, and yet it had been in that box. And her mother... her mother could have cursed it, so trying to destroy it could only make things worse somehow. Maybe. Amy had no way of knowing, and so...

Amy bent over, resting her hands on her knees, desperately trying to get control of herself and of her breathing. She just needed – she just needed to get herself under control. There was no reason to panic. It was just a crystal. It didn't mean anything...

And even if it did – magic didn't have to be evil, did it? The librarian, Mr. Giles... he'd used magic to reverse her mother's spells, right? So at least magic didn't have to be bad...

And Ms. Calendar wasn't her mother. Amy couldn't be terrified of her, right? There was no reason to. She'd done nothing to be worried and...

Amy forced herself to try and take a deep breath. It didn't quite work, but at least the basic idea was there. She closed her eyes and straightened up, trying again. This time it did work. Her heart was still racing, her throat still felt dry and tight – and she was already late to class, but at least she wasn't in the middle of a panic attack or something.

Amy shoved it all into the back of her mind, trying desperately not to think about it. Just... not right now. She was already late to class, she didn't need to miss it entirely.

May 7th, 1997

1420 Truman Drive, Sunnydale

Amy's hands brushed up against the leather of the book and instantly she recoiled, staggering back from her closet, nearly tripping over her own feet as she tried to put distance between herself and it. She sucked in a breath, then another, both of them fast and shallow.

Taking another step back, Amy nearly fell over onto her bed, managing to sit down on it with something vaguely resembling co-ordination.

The book was still there. Of course it was. Why wouldn't it be? Amy hadn't exactly done anything to get rid of it.

She just ran from it. She didn't want it. She'd never wanted it. It was just there, and it wouldn't go away. Amy had more than once been tempted to just pick it up and take it halfway across town and leave it somewhere. Or mail it to someone – anyone...

Or even try just burning it.

But she hadn't. It had followed her here... it would follow her again, wouldn't it? Her mother would have cursed it – she was that sort of sick and twisted person, after all. Cruel and evil and -

I could always find out how to get rid of it... A little voice in the back of her head pointed out. The book was a spellbook, after all. And if there was magic to reverse magic, like the one Mr. Gikes had put her back in her own body and undone all her mother's spells...

Then maybe there was a spell inside of the book? She could open it up, find some sort of counter-curse or... something, and then she could get rid of the book. Cast the spell and then...

Amy shook her head. No. She couldn't use magic. No. No magic. No spells. Not after what her mother had done to her. Amy wasn't her mother, maybe magic wasn't evil, but she wasn't going to touch it.

Amy's eyes drifted, unbidden, to the closet, despite her certainty. Recoiling more, Amy stood up and on shaky legs, approached her closet, putting her hand on the door, intent on slamming it shot, on putting the book and the temptation out of sight, out of mind.

But it won't stay out of mind. I can't get away from it. I can't get away from the book here at home, and I can't even get away from magic at school. Grateful to Mr. Giles as she was, Amy avoided the library as much as she could, because he too knew magic and that bothered her. Also, Buffy was always in there, and Amy didn't want to be reminded of the whole incident.

Which wasn't really fair to Buffy, who had been super nice afterwards, but still. Staying far away from everything related to that incident had been very high on her to do list.

And now she'd have to avoid her computer science teacher. Couldn't completely, obviously, but...

Amy was still standing there, her hand on the door, the door still not slammed shut, when another thought occurred to her. I can't do magic. I won't. But there was no -

There was no reason someone else couldn't, right? No reason someone else couldn't get rid of it, couldn't get rid of anything protecting it?

Get rid of whatever had made it somehow appear at the bottom of her box of things from her mom's house.

And she wouldn't have to go into the library and risk running into Buffy or anything like that. There was another option. She could just...

She could just take it to Ms. Calendar. She knew magic, right? She had that crystal. She could just give it to her and let destroy it, or not, or whatever. She could just... get rid of it. Give it so someone else. It wouldn't follow her then, right?

And then out of sight really would be out of mind...

May 8th, 1997
Computer Lab, Sunnydale High

Ms. Calender had always told her students to come to her class during the 11-o'clock period if they could manage it, if they had questions outside of class itself, since she had no class then. Amy did have a class right now, but she was going to be skipping it.

Having the spellbook in her bag for hours had kept Amy feeling like she was on the verge of a panic attack all day. It was... exhausting and draining. She just wanted to...

Amy didn't even know what she wanted to do. Freak? Die? Collapse? But as she approached the computer lab, there was almost a spring in her step. She was going to get rid of the spellbook and then everything would be alright again. It wouldn't be there to remind her of what happened, or tempt her to use it, or... anything. She could just get rid of it and go back to being a normal teenager. Where your biggest worry was boys liking you or getting passing grades. Basic stuff. Not, magic and nightmares about your own mother coming back from... wherever and killing you or taking your body again or...

God only knew what 'Catherine the Great' might try to do to her if she somehow came back. She wouldn't of course, but every time she noticed the spellbook was there, that the spellbook existed... Amy grew terrified of that non-possibility as much as anything else.

Ms. Calendar looked up from her computer screen when Amy walked in. "Amy. Is there something wrong? You did just kind of run out of my class yesterday. Everything alright?"

Amy didn't have anything to say – and she couldn't anyway. Her throat felt dry and tight... hurriedly she took her backpack off and opened it, pulling her mother's spellbook out and dropping it on the desk with a heavy thud.

Ms. Calendar looked at it, reached for the cover, as if to open it, then pulled her hand back like she'd been about to touch a poisonous snake or something. She looked up at Amy.

"Usually books go to Mr. Giles in the library. Just make sure you don't try and bring him a floppy disk, He'd have no idea what to do with it." She smirked a little as she said that about the librarian. Then her tone grew more grave, "but where, exactly, did you get this?"

"No-" Amy managed to get out. She closed her eyes and forced herself to swallow slowly, then tried again. "No. I – I have the right room. You know magic, which means you know how to get rid of that." She pointed to the book.

Ms. Calendar looked at her, as if contemplating denying things, but then seemed to think better of it. "You mean you haven't used it?"

"No – of course not. God no!" Amy protested. "I don't want – I don't want anything to do with magic. I didn't even want to take the damn with me!" She kept going, words pouring forth from her. "It just showed up in my luggage after I moved and -" Amy lost track of her sentence and just started hyperventilating. She nearly staggered back, but Ms. Calendar stood up and grabbed a hold of her hand, keeping her from falling long enough to regain her footing – though she nearly pulled the teacher down with her in the process.

"I think you should probably sit down Amy." Ms. Calendar said after a moment. "And you can explain to me how you got this. This book... I'm a dabbler at best and even I can feel the dark magic radiating off of this thing." Well, that makes sense. Mom was – she was... evil, I guess. Probably.

Amy shook her head. "I don't want to sit. I just – get rid of it. Or keep it or – just make sure it doesn't follow me again, like it did from my mother's house!" Amy shouted.

Jenny looked at her carefully, "This was your mother's? And she was a witch?" She hesitated a moment, then went on: "Magical talent is inherited, in part, Amy. Usually through the maternal line. So there's a good chance that you have magic talent of your own." Ms. Caldendar's tone was gentle, careful, but that wasn't enough to keep Amy from hyperventilating again.

No. No. I don't – that's not a – I can't have magic. I don't want – she's got to be wrong. No. No. Amy staggered back, and this time the CS teacher didn't manage to help her stay standing – she fell back, hitting her head on the tile floor, hard, and the room rapidly went dark.